


A Title You Earn

by imgoingtocrash



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Couch Cuddles, Fluff, Gen, Grandpa Tony Stark, Hugs, Other IronFam Members (Mentioned), Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Calls Tony Stark "Dad", Peter Parker/Michelle Jones (mentioned) - Freeform, Tall Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts (Mentioned) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:34:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24417454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imgoingtocrash/pseuds/imgoingtocrash
Summary: It is a Wednesday in October, and Peter is standing on his front porch.Tony can say with full honesty that he adores visits from Peter—eighty percent of the kid’s life is in the city between trying to finish grad school, Spider-Man, and his wife of almost a year now, MJ. Tony respects that, but it also means there are less trips for the Jones-Parkers up to the cabin than there used to be, and Tony misses Peter like crazy.With Morgan away at college and Pepper determined to show the other execs at Stark Industries a thing or two about keeping up a good work ethic at an older age…Tony can admit that he gets a little lonely up here by himself. Any good company is appreciated.Peter wants to ask Tony something important about his role in Peter's life. (Or: Tony finds out he's going to be a Grandpa.)
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 70
Kudos: 517





	A Title You Earn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aatticsaltt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aatticsaltt/gifts).



> aatticsaltt and I started talking about Tall Peter and it eventually morphed into me mentioning my love of Grandpa Tony, and I had no idea she wrote [this excellent fic](https://aatticsaltt.tumblr.com/post/190712505471/ive-been-a-sucker-for-dad-peter-and-grandpa-tony). I was so inspired, I spit this surprise fic out in her honor for both things. Thanks, Dani. :)

It is a Wednesday in October, and Peter is standing on his front porch.

Tony can say with full honesty that he adores visits from Peter—eighty percent of the kid’s life is in the city between trying to finish grad school, Spider-Man, and his wife of almost a year now, MJ. Tony respects that, but it also means there are less trips for the Jones-Parkers up to the cabin than there used to be, and Tony misses Peter like crazy.

With Morgan away at college and Pepper determined to show the other execs at Stark Industries a thing or two about keeping up a good work ethic at an older age…Tony can admit that he gets a little lonely up here by himself. Any good company is appreciated.

“Peter,” he says, taking a sip out of his coffee cup. It’s decaf, because he’s old now, and he hates trying to trick his brain into caring about the flavor in place of the caffeine.

“Hey, Tony.”

“Ooo, _Tony_. That’s ominous.” Peter’s gotten more relaxed about what he calls Tony, but most of the time it’s the tried and true ‘Mister Stark,’ and Tony’s given up trying to break him of the habit. It’s almost more special that he keeps calling Tony that after over ten years of knowing each other. 

There’s also the look on his face, like he can’t decide if he wants to come inside or turn around and get back in his car.

“Is ‘we need to talk’ worse?” Peter questions with a joking lilt to poorly cover whatever’s going on in his head.

Tony sighs into his mug. “C’mon in.”

Peter doesn’t have to duck to avoid hitting the top of the door facing, but it’s not far from touching the tips of his messy curls either. He had a small growth spurt in high school, and then had another halfway through college, and then suddenly, Peter was five inches taller than him and Peter thinks it’s the funniest thing in the world.

Tony jostles his coffee cup at Peter. “You want anything?”

“Hm?” Peter is distracted by looking at one of the pictures in the entryway. He and Pepper like to rotate them out every few months, adding in new favorites, reminiscing on older ones. It’s like a living scrapbook of their loved ones all around them. Tony finds it comforting and homey in a way he didn’t realize he’d been lacking until his new favorite activity was napping in a leather armchair. (Best Father’s Day gift ever, go Morguna.)

“Coffee? Tea? That gross soda water?”

“You hate La Croix. You tell me that every time I drink it in front of you.”

“Well, yeah, but you like it, so,” he explains. 

He also hates celery, but Pepper likes to juice weird vegetables and claim it’s for their health. He loves his wife, so he buys the damn celery. Morgan thinks pineapple is good on pizza and he has yet to throw her out of the house over it. Rhodey still eats canned E-Z cheese and Happy gets extra grumpy at holiday dinners if he doesn’t get to have a glass of premium scotch after dessert. 

He provides for his family, it’s that simple.

Peter seems to think something of it though, the troubled look from when he first arrived settling back over his features.

Tony abandons the drink offer, guiding Peter over to the couch with an arm around his back. Peter used to fit snugly under his arm, and both of them miss it sometimes. (Tony because he’s getting progressively more nostalgic in his old age, Peter because he’s a cuddly little bastard who wishes he could still tuck himself against Tony’s chest when they hug instead of it being the other way around.)

“Alright, kid, what’s up?”

“Why does something have to be up? Can’t I just—“

Tony’s disbelieving look seems to shut that excuse down before it leaves Peter’s mouth.

“I, um,” Peter wrings his hands, taps his foot, and rocks a little on the couch at the exact same time. Tony has settled into the joy of peaceful moments, but Peter is still young, still an acting hero, and therefore pushed by the constant need to be _doing_ in one way or another.

Tony lays a hand on Peter’s shoulder, squeezing lightly and rubbing his thumb up and down in comfort. 

“Okay, so—so you know how I was kind of a mess when we met? Like, Ben had only died a few months before Germany, and I was still figuring out my powers, and I was wearing that, just _awful_ suit. I was just a random kid and you gave me my first good suit. You put in the work and you made me a better hero.”

“I remember a lot of missteps on my end—taking a fourteen-year-old _child_ to Germany, taking away your suit and almost getting you killed by Toomes, watching you turn to—” Tony can barely say it. Sometimes he still has nightmares about it. “I wasn’t perfect by any stretch.”

“Yeah, but you kept trying. You never gave up on me. You brought me back—you brought everyone back. And after everything that happened, in the middle of fighting Thanos you just—you came up to me and gave me a hug.” 

Peter looks at him with this smile, soft and loving and awed. 

To Tony, the world felt like it had stopped in that moment. The world had righted itself, returning Peter to him. Five years he’d waited—there was nothing else to do but bring him closer and swear to never let him leave Tony’s life again.

“Then it was just like—boom,” Peter continues, emphasizing the words with an explosive movement of his hands. “There Aunt May and I were, a part of your family. We came to every Christmas dinner, every birthday party, every barbecue. You kept calling Morgan my little sister and now she _is_ my sister. I took her to school all the time, and I helped her with her homework—I mean, she was one of MJ’s bridesmaids at my _wedding_ , you know?”

“Uh-huh,” Tony replies. He’s always happy to hear that Peter is happy, that the trails of his life aren’t keeping him down or away from the good things, he’s just unsure where this is going.

“And I’m so grateful. Everything you’ve done for me, the way you’ve been there for me—“

“Pete, it was never an obligation. I wanted to. You know that.”

“Of course, but I just—you were never a replacement for Ben, or my parents. Like, Ben was—Ben. And I loved him, but it’s different because I still have you. I always have you. You’re this—this solid presence that’s been there for me whenever I needed it. Every time I called stressed out during Freshman year, and every time I got hurt on patrol, and when I just really want to rewatch our favorite episodes of the same sitcoms we’ve already seen twenty times. You love me and I know that, and I love you and—“

“Peter.”

“The thing is—I feel like…like I maybe I don’t reciprocate enough,” Peter puts up his hands at Tony’s instant, head-shaking response to that—Peter is affectionate and kind and Tony has always known that Peter cares about him too. “Or, maybe just—not in the right way.”

“You’re gonna have to spell this one out for me, kiddo. I’ve lost the point and I’m ninety percent sure you never had it in the first place.”

“I just think maybe I should—if you’re okay with it…I want to call you Dad.”

Tony’s heart is old and arrhythmic. He takes pills to regulate his blood pressure. Every minor clench and pain is something he’s supposed to worry about.

He’s never cared less about feeling the entirety of a skipped beat.

With Morgan, Tony had trained himself into the title of Dad. He’d been so scared to repeat his father’s mistakes by accepting that name, but Pepper said “There’s Daddy!” and Morgan spurred into a fit of joyful screams and that was _it_. Screw being the infamous Tony Stark, failed superhero, no longer a playboy, an inventor in his garage alone. He was just a father who loved his family. That’s all he wanted to be anymore in that moment, and since then it was the thing he was most proud of in the entirety of his life.

Peter is his son, no blood relation required. He doesn’t need to be called Dad to know what he and Peter are to each other. Being Peter’s father to Peter himself, though, that’s…that's a title he's earned.

The pause of Tony’s heart and brain simultaneously shorting out is too much for Peter to take, because he stumbles out, “Just—sometimes. Or, really, I can stick with Tony, or I could even go back to Mister Stark if—“

“Kid, woah, hey. Hey.” 

He moves his hands from Peter’s shoulders up to his cheeks. He remembers Peter’s long years of staying babyfaced and the first time he called and asked Tony for a refresher course, embarrassed and red in the face because he’d only ever _watched_ Ben. Now he’s almost constantly running around with stubbled cheeks, never enough time in the day to dedicate to shaving with the care Tony always ascribed to the action.

His son. His messy, scatter-brained, caring, selfless, excellent, genius of a son.

“Peter, I would be _honored_ to have you call me your dad. You know that I’ve seen you as my other child for a long, long time now.”

“Yeah?” Peter’s always had self-conscious worries about things like that—like one day the ones he loves could all just turn their back on him and decide not to care. One too many early days school bullies, probably.

“Of course,” Tony says, pulling Peter into a fierce hug. Peter crams himself into the crook of Tony’s neck as always, easier done when they’re sitting down instead of standing. Peter’s face is still a little cold from the chill of the outside and it tingles against his warm skin. “Of course you’re my kid. You’re my son. Of course.”

Peter allows them to stay in the hug for another minute. Tony does every tried and true comfort—a hand through Peter’s hair, a hand rubbing against his back—happy when Peter physically loosens.

When they break apart, Tony says, “Not that I don’t appreciate the talk, but what brought all of this on all of a sudden?”

Peter’s responding smile is wide. Practically giddy.

“I didn’t want the baby to think it was weird that you’re its grandpa, but I don’t call you Dad.”

Twice in one day—Peter Parker has the longest and most successful record for trying to kill Tony. No villain can compare to this brown-haired little devil in front him.

“What?”

Peter nods.

“You and Michelle—”

“Yeah.”

“You—you’re having a baby?”

“I don’t know how many more ways I can say—“

Tony practically tackles Peter back against him, patting his back like it’s some kind of advanced bro-hug instead of literally the best, most celebratory hug of his life.

“Oh my god, Pete, oh my _god_.” He pulls away and holds Peter by the shoulders again—he’s only twenty-nine, he’s a baby. How he’s grown, how much growing he has left. He loves Peter so much, so damn much, and there’s going to be a kid walking around with half of his kid’s DNA, wow.

God, he’s going to call Pepper bawling like a baby and freak her out, it’s going to be a disaster, he’s so excited.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Peter says. “I was, um. Really nervous. You and May are the first people we’ve told.”

“I’m so glad you did, Peter, so glad.” He hugs Peter again quickly, pressing a kiss to his hair, before pulling away. “And you really want me to be—?”

“Of course,” Peter says, echoing his answer from before with a sincere smile.

“I love you so much,” Tony says, wiping a tear away. He’s become such a sap. A glorious, sappy old grandpa who is going to love the crap out of his very first _grandchild_ , god. God. “I’m so proud of you, Peter, really. But if you were just using the dad thing as a segue to do a cute pregnancy announcement that you’re going to have FRIDAY put on the internet—“

Peter curls himself around Tony in that unnatural way he does, kicking his legs over Tony’s and squeezing them together in an odd little cradle-hold of Peter’s limbs hooked around as much of Tony as possible.

“I love you too, Dad.”

He imagines a tiny, cherubic little baby with Peter’s hair and MJ’s hazel eyes, staring up at him and knowing that he is family, that he will protect that child like he has his daughter and son.

Tony presses another kiss to Peter’s head.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to savvysass for the quick beta. As always, you help read over my crazy when I barf it onto you. <3
> 
> Thanks for reading! Kudos, comments, etc. are appreciated!


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